<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Blood lust by HellsPurestDevil</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25818622">Blood lust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellsPurestDevil/pseuds/HellsPurestDevil'>HellsPurestDevil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fallout Vindictus [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood Sharing, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Knifeplay, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, blood sucking, pillow humping</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:40:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,116</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25818622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellsPurestDevil/pseuds/HellsPurestDevil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fallout OC Sexytimes!!</p><p>She had always been a enticing hunter, there was no doubt. But what's a ghoul to do when his desires try to get the better of him, and he wishes for the flavor of sharp, metallic in his mouth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ghoul Character/Human (Female), OC/OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fallout Vindictus [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blood lust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sybil had always been an enticing hunter. </p><p>So collected, so confident, he watched her lithe body as it swung around oddly gracefully as she jammed her knife into a raiders back. The man arched away from him, screaming, and She pulled away, the knife hanging at her side. Jeremiah had climbed off the floor, kicking his own dead raider away from him, and took in a sharp, unnecessary breath.</p><p>He watched the way her shoulders rose and fell with her heavy breathing, watched the way she rounded her shoulders and shook her head, something Jer had seen her do too many times to count. Her fingers tightened around the knife and Jeremiah glanced down, eyes locking on to what he saw.</p><p>The way Sybil held that knife was too close to the way she held his stiff cock at night, when they were tangled in abandoned beds in old crumby dilapidated motels, far from people, sweating from exertion. And to make matters worse, knife wasn't even <em>hers</em>, it was <strong>his</strong> and she moved her index finger over the base of the knife blade absentmindedly, a drop of blood smearing over her finger, and Jeremiah felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him. It didn't matter that he could smell the awful stench of rot in the air; Jeremiah had an interesting imagination for someone with his type of mind, and it was all too easy to imagine his own blood glistening on the knife, Her smearing it around with her thin soft fingers, maybe even licking it off them.</p><p>
  <em>Oh Fuck</em>
</p><p>"Jeremiah, you okay?" She turned around to see her companion breathing deeply, eyes locked on the knife.</p><p>"I am- it is- nothing, Syb, it's nothing. We should get going. Abraham will want to know we're safe." But Sybil wasn't stupid, she was never stupid. She had caught him by the shoulder as he tried to escape and held him in place, concern pulling her brows together. "Tell me what's wrong."</p><p>Jeremiah's glowing eyes flickered to the knife without his permission and Syb looked even more confused, holding it up between them. It was so close that Jeremiah could see the contours of the blood that no human could see with their naked eye.</p><p>"Is it the smell?" </p><p>She knew of a ghouls sensitive nose, but still Jeremiah shook his head but reached out and wrapped his hand around her's. He had done this before when they were in bed, when she was stroking him. He had often times been too unsure to tell her what he wanted, so instead he often wrapped his hand around her's and helped the rhythm along, showing her exactly how he liked to be touched.</p><p>Jeremiah moved his hand over Sybil's, squeezing gently, and Sybil chose that exact moment to look down and see the faint outlining tent forming in Jeremiah's jeans.</p><p>
  <em>Oh shit</em>
</p><p>"Oh..."</p><p>Jeremiah looked around the rusted room sheepishly. He had always been fascinated with the sight of blood. It wasn't that surprising really when you thought about it hard enough. During his childhood he'd seen enough of it courtesy of his bastard of an old man. His father had taken great delight in beating the ever-loving shit out of the him and all he had to show for his childhood back before his change was a back riddled in scars and an unusual obsession with fresh blood. As he grew older the blood obsession had changed from boyhood curiosity to sexual fixation.</p><p>When he was a kid it was ok, hell it was almost expected to have a thing for blood. </p><p>Boys were taught to fight and be rough and tough, hell everyone was in the wastes, kids included. But something about his fascination with blood had altered as he'd gotten older. The boyish delight of reading scary stories, or hearing of a persons battle against raiders or some shit had grown and changed into arousal at the sight of blood other than his own no sooner then when he had hit puberty.</p><p>When Sybil and him had first gotten together years back, something in Jeremiah snapped. When they were teenagers, he had seen Sybil slice the tip of her finger open while she was making lunch with her mother. They were in the makeshift kitchen when disaster struck and she accidentally injured herself. He sat on the other side of the counter to them, cleaning his crossbow while she hummed contentedly. The gasp of pain she'd uttered killed the soft vibrations of her vocal chords instantly.</p><p>As soon as he saw that droplet poised on the end of her fingertip, he had felt his mouth water at the thought of wanting her finger in his mouth too revel in the sweet coppery flavour he found there. He had felt the near automatic tent form in his pants and it took everything in him to not whip it out and jerk himself right there under the table. He had pushed the heel of his palm into his cock and exhaled hard and hot enough to melt iron, feeling sick and aroused, and he couldn't think of a time he had bolted so fast out of that house to find a way to take care of the issue then he had at that moment.</p><p>It had gotten even worse when he became a ghoul. The blood practically started calling to him in a song like voice, but he couldn't give in to his desire. Not like this; especially not with her. If he started, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop. He knew he and Sybil had been gravitating towards each other for some time now once again since they had gotten back together. They shared something mutual between themselves, but Sybil wasn't a freak like him. And Jeremiah was not willing to risk destroying the bond that existed between them with something as stupid as not being able to control what his dick was pleading with him to do.</p><p>Sybil was still staring at him, but he didn't notice the hooded glint in her eye. Instead he coughed awkwardly and grabbed the knife from her, holstering it back into one of his makeshift belt loops. "We should...go find Abraham.." He grabbed her by the arm and led them away, launching in to a long conversation about their next job. But there was a stutter in his tone, and he never gave himself a chance to explain himself. Didn't matter, Sybil probably thought he was a freak now anyways.</p><p>_ _ _</p><p><br/>
When they had gotten back home, Jeremiah did his best to distance himself from Sybil and the rest of the group.  He barricaded himself up in his room and locked the door. No booze. Only him and the choked sound that wrenched from the back of his throat, as he lurched forward, back bowing as he fell face first into his mattress with a still raging hard on. </p><p>The musty sheets rose up to smother him, his mangled nose buried deep within the folds. Wet breath fanned out across the bed dressing. His hot breath damping the linen as he panted, hard, gasping through a lungful of feathers and breathing in the stale smells, as the muscles in his thighs bulge as he locked them tight around his pillow, straining as he forced it to stay steady so he can lose himself more thoroughly in a sudden stain glass fantasy with the smell of her blood still clinging in his nostrils. </p><p>It's not his pillow, he humps against with such ferocity as time marches on slowly. It's Sybil, in an assembly of distorted, jagged glass underneath him, shimming, sparkling panes all put together to form this gorgeous picture. To this day Jeremiah is fascinated by her and the curve of her spine. The way her fingers scrabbled for a hold on the slick covers, sweat glistening in the deep, desperate crease of her strong brow. Pink lips hang loose and open so soft cries of pleasure can slip for them more easily and the passionate red stain of his cheeks and chest make Jeremiah's head spin.</p><p>The control she has over him even now in this fantasy makes him lightheaded, the power she wields enthralls him. His gaze quickly fell away from the soft curves of Sybil's face and instead fixates firmly on the bouncing of her breasts against her chest. Sweat smears across her skin, catching in the places where her skin folds, slipping down her sides whenever the squirming woman curved her spine up to met his pistoning hips. </p><p>He doesn't notice the shift in positions between the illusion and him, doesn't notice his hand digging into her shoulder until streams of thin red lines as bright as lights escape from underneath his finger tips. But when he does, he's so enrapture by them that it takes all to keep from bending down and licking them.</p><p>“Fucking beautiful” he gasps, startling himself when the words ring aloud in his ears. Not-Sybil hums lightly in response. There's no disgust or anger or anything.</p><p>And oh god, does he want to mark her so badly. He wants to sink his teeth into the creamy skin of her inner thigh, right at the place where her pants have worn it smooth. With his lack of nose, he would slot so perfectly in the justice of her hips, in the crease where thigh connects to the trunk of the body. He would suck and bite until white burns red with irritation, leaving hot welts in the wake of his wondering mouth. Maybe, if he bit hard enough he could make her bleed as his blazing maw, licks strips up her chest until she’s pleading, maybe bite her close to the pulse in her neck, mark her as his own. He's never marked her before, never gave a sign that she was his, maybe now would be the best time to start,</p><p>The urge is overwhelming, causes his hips to sutter once more, or maybe that’s just because he’s so close now that little lights have started to dance at the corners of his vision.  </p><p>The muscles in his jaw clench tight, as he fucks himself with earnest into his pillow. The joints of the bed creck under the abuse. It doesn’t take him much more. He thinks of Sybil breathless and bloody below him and humps the bed in a manic fever until he blows his load, utterly soaking his pillow case in near fluorescent green jizz.  It takes a few minutes of senseless breathing for the scratch of damp fabrice on sensitive skin to become unpleasant, and by the time his kaleidoscope fantasy has ebbed away with the tide, he's already to exhausted to move, and instead lays there until the aftershocks ebb away and lull him.<br/>
_ _ _</p><p><em>He wakes to a cool finger pressed ghost-like against his lips</em>.</p><p>There was no sound. No warmth. Not even the crack of a door opening to alert him that someone had managed to sneak up on him. Just the pressure of skin against skin and the unnerving suspicion that it had been there for a while. Tracing the cracked split of his lips with gentle, reverent little strokes as he'd slept.</p><p>He blinked hazily into the pre-dawn dark. Sleep-stupid and slow before the sudden outline of a looming shape kneeling close made him flinch and jerk away. Fumbling for something to use before-</p><p>"Shhh, Jeremiah. It's just me."</p><p>The action lost its violence immediately. Relaxing into something that on anyone else might have come out like hope rather than disbelief. </p><p>"Syb?"</p><p>The hand was inching back. Thumb outstretched like something in her was yearning to feel it catch against the dried splits of his lips, when he gently captured it - inhaling reflexively, the remaining bits of his nose twitched, breathing in the harsh smell of spilled ochre and scorched earth.</p><p>"Sybil?"</p><p>Then-</p><p>"Jesus, you're freezing," he muttered, vision adjusting slowly. Trying to find her eyes in the dark as he starts rubbing her hand between his carefully, trying to muster up some heat as the strange coolness of her skin extended all the way up the taper of her wrist.</p><p>The chuckle that left her throat made him do a double take. Momentarily thrown by the deepness of it as he squinted. Just able to make out the curve of her chin, porcelain-sharp and cut-throat beautiful as her skin shone creamy-cold. Horizon starting to stain light as she cocked her head, watchful – predatory – before turning back and fixing him with a sly smile.</p><p>"You would be too if you'd been out all night, stumbling around in the dark cause some moron forgot where he put his shit" </p><p>She's straddling him now, he could feel pressure on his groin. That wasn't unfamiliar but there's a harshness in her voice that's so unlike her that it actually startles him, but just then a sharp smell hits his nose, and something silver glints in the remaining moonlight emanating from the window. It's a silver he recognizes, and he's thankful that they got the generators working again a few days ago cause suddenly he's sitting up so fast that bed jerks as he turns on the bedside lap. </p><p>And sure enough there she was on his lap. Only, she was bare except for her black jeans, and by god even in the partial darkness she was still a delectable thing to see partially nude. But that wasn't what got him. What got him was she was twiddling the knife-his knife- between her fingers. And his knife was red, not old dried brown-red from before, but no, new wet red. And Jeremiah watched transfixed, unable to chastise her, as he watched a slim river of red pour down from the palm that help the knife.</p><p>His eye's flickered up to her face just long enough to catch the questioning smile she levelled at him. He dropped his gaze back down to stare once again at the ruby jewel that smeared itself on her left hand. He shifted uncomfortably where he lay but refused to look away from the red river. He couldn't look away from it.</p><p>He refused to believe this was happening, there was no way she'd understand his compulsion, his desire to suckle the blood like a new-born baby nestled against its mother's breast. And at that moment, sitting there with the scent of fresh blood lingering in the air Jeremiah wanted nothing more than to do just that with Her hand. That small river of blood weaving down her hand and onto her arm made him want to draw blood from her himself. He wanted to bite down hard on her bare shoulder and mark her; make her bleed so he could taste all of her sweetness in his mouth. He licked his lips and hovered closer under the guise of inspecting the injury.</p><p>"It's just a little blood Jeremiah," she teased him, waving the offending extremity under his nose. "You want to kiss it better for me?" Sybil asked with a chuckle.</p><p>He let his eyes flick up once again to her face. She was smiling playfully at him like she thought the idea of him actually complying with her request was the funniest thing in the world.</p><p>He stared at the cut before him as she laid her palm out flat, transfixed by the ruby jewel that had appeared there. There was no way she could possibly know what effect blood had on him. If she had even the slightest notion he knew she would never have offered herself so casually.</p><p>"Pretty please?" she begged, her green eyes twinkling with mirth at the request. She flicked her wrist and a fresh trail of blood flowed down her hand, revigorating the small trail already flowing down her wrist, staining the skin left in its wake as the knife fell with a seemingly heavy, dull, thud on the bed.</p><p>He was hypnotized by the flow of blood. The red was so enticing. It beckoned to him like a siren singing to him across the ocean. The call of the blood was too strong; too much to ignore. If he was human he would have been able to, but being a ghoul did things to him and his sense that being a human had never done.</p><p>His lips were on her finger before he could stop himself. He kissed the tip lightly, his eyes locked on hers as he did what she requested. The smile on her face morphed into an expression of surprise before gasping again. The sound she made with this gasp wasn't pain-filled though like when she'd cut herself all those years ago. It was colored with desire. But despite the shock and surprise she obviously felt at this turn of events her eyes stayed locked on his.</p><p>Good Lord, the blood tasted so sweet. Jeremiah had never thought she would be so sweet. She swirled about his mouth and trickled down his throat, invading his body. The one smear that had been on her finger wasn't enough though.</p><p>He wanted more.</p><p>He wanted to bite her so badly. He wanted to sink his teeth into her skin and feel his mouth fill with her blood. But she had suffered enough at the hands of the wastes already. Jeremiah wasn't willing to mark her like his old man had him.</p><p>He dropped his gaze, severing their contact as his eyes fell to her arm to find the delicate line of blood that had snaked down her wrist earlier. Jeremiah moved his lips down to the base of her wrist where the coppery flow ended. The skin he found there was soft and smooth. The texture was only amplified by the presence of the blood now on its surface. He placed a gentle kiss over her pulse point as the hand he had been caressing her face subconsciously, with shot out to gently cup her elbow. His mangled fingers tightened on her skin as he held her to his mouth, determined not to waste a drop of the precious liquid he found there. The exploration of her wrist continued as he kissed and licked a path across the bloody skin.</p><p>He felt her shudder at the contact and before he could stop himself he'd nipped a portion of her skin between his teeth, enjoying the feel of her in his mouth. The bite wasn't hard enough to draw blood but it was hard enough to elicit a second shudder from the woman straddling him.</p><p>His teeth raked over the skin of her palm as he imagined biting down and marking her there. The thought of her walking around with his own personal brand was almost too much to bear. </p><p>Her blood was almost too much to bear. It was sweeter than any whores  he'd tasted before, when he had enough caps to allow him to do as he pleased. </p><p>Like an addict after the first taste of Jet, Jeremiah knew he was hooked. He needed another hit and he'd do anything to get it. But if he didn't stop now he would definitely be approaching the point of no return and he couldn't be like that with her. She wasn't fucked up like he was. She deserved so much better than what he had to offer.</p><p>Regretfully Jeremiah let his tongue travel back up her wrist, licking the previously stained skin clean as he moved. His eyes found hers again as he made the assent. She was breathing heavily but she didn't shy away from his touch, like he had previously thought, and he had to sudden urge to kiss not her wrist but her lips. The thought of her tasting her own blood dancing on his tongue almost killed his resolve to stop but Jeremiah knew he couldn't do that to her. He'd already overstepped the invisible boundary between them the moment he took that first drop of blood into his mouth.</p><p>Finally he reached her palm again. He let his mouth linger for a moment before kissing the enticing extremity a final goodbye.</p><p>"Better?" he asked, his voice coming out huskier than he thought possible. His mind was clouded with the sweet and simultaneously bitter taste she left in his mouth. His first taste of her sweet red would be his last; he was sure of it. But still Sybil nodded her head mutely, drawing her hand back against her chest and curling her fingers protectively into her palm. </p><p>She glanced down at the limb cradled against her body as if shocked and disgusted by its mere proximity to her, and Jeremiah took her silence as a sign of repulsion. Panic started to bubble up within him as the full gravity of what he had just done to her sunk in. He had been too caught up in the bloodlust he felt to control himself. How could he have let himself get so carried away? Especially with her? She deserved more than what he could offer. She didn't need an asshole like him trying to chomp down on her. Enough things in this shitty world were out to eat you; she didn't need the added worry of his weird obsession to add to the list.</p><p>In a effort to remedy the situation, he grabbed her by the hips and swung her over just enough for him to nestle comfortably between her thighs. Maybe if he gave her something sweet she would forget about what he just did.</p><p>Leaning back, he got to work on her pants and his own, yanking the zipper down and pushing the fabric down just enough to shimmy out of his jeans. Without warning, she sat up, her hands pushing along his shoulders until he got the hint and wriggled out of his coat. Red from her oozing palm dirtied the shoulder of his white shirt, but he did his best to ignore it, instead moving his hand to grip her behind the neck. </p><p>After placing a series of open mouthed kisses along her collarbones, Sybil suddenly took her tongue and licked along the length of his neck before blowing hot air out over the wet trail, watching as his muscles trembled in response in response. He started to shift slightly at her touch, a soft sigh escaping his parted lips.</p><p>She moved her hand lower and started to run her fingers back and forth across the waistband of his underwear, nails gently raking through the smattering of harsh gnarled tissue just below his belly button, or what remained of it. She could feel his cock throb against her leg as he reacted to her movements. She unwrapped herself from him and gazed down at the sizeable bulge in his grey boxers. After a few strokes through his boxers, she relinquished her grip and laid back down.</p><p>As Jeremiah moved to straddle her, a palm rose up to stop him halfway. Confused, he quirked a hairless brow at her, before realizing she was reaching behind him and suddenly the air rushed out of him.</p><p>The knife she had cut herself with earlier was once again in her hand. A tiny left-over droplet of her life essence still clung wetly and stubbornly to the tip of the blade, while the rest started drying. At that moment Jeremiah thought that blade was quite possibly the luckiest thing the entire goddamn world. To have tasted the tiny woman's blood, to have bitten into her skin. Fuck, he envied that knife.</p><p>She grinned nervously at him, twisting her head to the side to expose the clean skin of her neck. She swiped the knife in her hand gently across the finger he had kissed moments ago, stopping Jeremiah's breath in his chest with that one deliberate action. With a triumphant grin Sybil raised the hand she had just cut and pressed it against the unmarked skin of her neck, painting a crimson trail from her ear to her collarbone. </p><p>"I think I cut myself again, can you help?" she said, her grin turning from nervous to mischievous. She then sat up again, laying on a elbow as she pressed the knife into his hand, and the tattered remains of his ear picked up something that sent his own blood boiling in his veins.</p><p>
  <em>Show me</em>
</p><p>He looked at her dumbly for a few moments, then looked at the knife in his hand. </p><p>"I'll let you know if it gets too much" she finished softly, before leaning back once again. She nodded softly and suddenly any apprehension he had died away. He smiled, twirling the knife, let go of the breath he'd been holding and smirked at the woman offering herself to him. Her eyes were transfixed on the expert spin of the blade, licking at her lips. He trailed the flat of the blade down her cheek, purring when she turned to press her lips against the silver.</p><p>"No permanent scars...<em>for now</em>...and <strong>not</strong>the face" she listed, and Jeremiah looked like he had just about died and gone to heaven. She caught a glimpse of his eyes, which were already dark with desire, before she closed her own as she felt lips swiftly connect with hers. </p><p>Jeremiah's hands traveled down to grab her hips possessively, making her moan into the kiss. The Ghouls movements were swift, like some pent up energy was finally being released. He deepened their kiss with an eager tongue, and Sybil was thankful they were laying down, otherwise she thought her legs were going to give out beneath her. </p><p>Jeremiah twirled the blade once more, watching it glint in the light. When the kiss stopped, Sybil breathed out slowly, adjusting her arms and sliding them under the pillow. With hands that were steadier than Sybil had imagined they could be, he lowered the blade of the knife against one of the simple curves on her chest, and cut into her skin.</p><p>Sybil gasped and hissed in pain, but watched with almost adoration in her eyes as Jeremiah made the first cut into her flesh. She groaned, arching into the light scrape. Blood welled, but didn’t spill over yet. His mouth ran dry at the sight, slightly agape, before he moved the blade over to the once spot he had been waiting to mark. Blood reached the surface and leaked out immediately,  as he started tracing the left side her clavicle with the blade.</p><p>He buried his head in the space between her head and shoulder, sighing with content as the scent of her blood hit his nostrils again. Her arms wrapped around his head, drawing him closer to the point of near suffocation. She shuddered when his teeth grazed the edge of her collarbone in his search for her sweet blood. He found himself smiling uncontrollably as he suckled the taunt skin under his lips, before the sharp parts of his fangs dug into her flesh. The response was immediate, she arched her back, curving herself into him. Feeling bad when she let out a whimper of pain, he gently licked the weeping wound, finally glad to have her wearing his mark.</p><p>With the knife, he ventured further down to trace each rib, occasionally pressing a new, dripping wound across, as if to accentuate them. The blade moved to her hipbones, opposite his hand. He cut a line over it, harder than the others. A small stream oozed out, down her inner thigh, dripping onto the bed. </p><p>Sybil watched as Jeremiah's tongue darted against one of the streams. He leaned down, letting his tongue fall flat out and licked the weeping wound once with one long swipe. She moaned, bucking into him, the heat of his brief dangerously close to the area she so desperately needed him, if the strong throbbing between her legs was anything to go by. She squeezed them together to try and relieve some tension but it became clear it wasn't something she was able to ignore.</p><p>Jeremiah bite down on the fleshy part of her thigh, causing the volume to escalate briefly. From this angle she watched as he closed his eyes, his breathing getting heavier. He licked his lips, looking at her with a gaze of desire, and she braced herself for what came nested.<br/>
_ _ _<br/>
It was cliché.</p><p>
  <em>Oh god, was it cliché as all <strong>fuck</strong>.</em>
</p><p>But the beautiful part of it all was that she didn't even care. Because Jeremiah was eating her out like it was breathing. Like he'd been born for it. Born to have his face shoved between a pair of legs and a slick center. Eating her out like there was nowhere on earth he'd rather be as she locked her knees and went along for the ride.</p><p>She bit down on a squeal, losing the ability to feel guilty as her nails scored across his scalp half urging, half in warning. Cheeks heating with arousal and a sticky sort of embarrassed pride that came part and parcel with hearing him slurp up her juices. A talented tongue curling and stroking, nosing at her clit as his cheeks and chin grew slick with her. Keeping her spread – on display – as dirty nails dug firmly into the soft of her thighs.</p><p>Jeremiah's eyes were hooded. She recognized the glaze in them, even as he spread her lips, wanting to get a better look at her. Her skin was flushed red, stinging with ragged skin- burn, clit swollen and slick between her folds. She was a fuckin' mess, wild and his, as her chest rose and fell above him. Her nipples, jutting and proud.</p><p>Trembling under his ministrations, she was a total wreck, blood from various wounds mixing with her sweat as she moaned and begged, desperate to finish. She felt him traced his name into her inner thigh, not with a knife this time, he had tossed that away to allow him room to hold her thighs apart. He did it instead with the nail like claw of his hand - not enough to scar, but definitely enough to make her bleed his name, and she frowned at that, almost disappointed. Maybe later he’d actually leave his brand.</p><p>For now, she squirmed as he fucked her with his tongue, inside and out, until she grabbed the sheets, thrusting up into him, head tilted back. He traced the folds, sucked on her clit, even pressed his tongue inside her. The taste of her fluids mingling with her blood must had made his head spin cause he faltered for a moment or two, growling a low husky like sound in the back of his throat, vibrations of it echoing across her bones. </p><p>In all honest, she knew deep down that if he wanted to he could draw this out for hours. He had done it before. But he seemed about as desperate as she was cause it wasn't long after her back began to arch, that he slid his hand down her inner thigh, spread her wider and slid one finger inside the searing heat of her body, curling it up.</p><p>Her moans were cut off with the first stroke. He rolled her clit with his thumb, keeping her with him as he licked a stripe down her center. He grinned into her skin as she mewled, thrusting into his face as he slid a finger in alongside his tongue, crooking it just so as she practically screeched – her eyes tightly closed, face pleasure-wrecked as she neared her peak.</p><p>His movements took on a new urgency, sensing how close she was as her pulse started to sing against his lips, hips jerking under his hands, face slick with her juices as he laid into her, slurping and mashing his thumb against her nub until all he could feel, all he could see, hear, taste and smell was her, and it was only when she stiffened, pulse flat-lining for a split second before every muscle in her body pulled tense, did his actions start to slow.</p><p>But they were far from finished, she knew that looking at him through the post-orgasmic haze. His cock surged inside his underwear almost forgotten after he’d been so preoccupied with her and her sweet cunt. It was stuck at an odd angle against his hip, pulsing frustratingly, a slight glow emanating from behind his underwear.</p><p>Jeremiah however paid no mind it, to busy sucking on his tongue, no doubt to get the taste of her back on his pallet. His eyes were still hazy, but the green in him seemed to glow brighter then before. He had been sitting up on his knees, running both his hands up her ankles and legs, moved them up the sides of her rib cage and up to her chest where Sybil was already arching into him as he kneaded her breasts where her nipples had hardened into tight little buds.</p><p>Leaning back on his legs, he hooked his fingers under his waistband and with a tug he yanked his boxers down in one fluid motion, his erection springing free, where it than hung in the air throbbing in tandem with a long, relieved groan, “...hell, I must still be dreamin’.”</p><p>"You're a goddamn hellkit, ya know that" His eyelids lowered, gaze intense, “You make me harder than a damn steel rod ya’ know that? And he was right about the hellkit part, he had to have been, cause there she lay, oozing, bloody wounds, mixing with post-orgasmic sweat. She was fired up, he could see that. It was as if this new form of bedroom activity had set something loose in her.</p><p>He looked up at her, his erection throbbing with his rapid tattooing heartbeat, veins within it glowing amazingly bright. She giggled, and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she trailed her nails down his throat, making him shiver and close his eyes, throwing his head back slightly. Sybil was incredibly turned on by this new knowledge of Jeremiah's blood fetish, and while she may never had had such feelings herself, she could respect his by being open minded enough to let him give it a whirl, and so far the experiments had been worth her time. The sting of her sweat against the open wounds etched across her body had thrilled her beyond belief, more then she could have expected.</p><p>Maybe....she was more of masochist then she originally thought....</p><p>Smiling at the thought, she sat up, Jeremiah still straddling her, and kissed him, hard and needy, one hand on each side of his face.</p><p>After a minute or two of struggling, she managed to grand his belt and pull it off his discarded jeans. She giggled and held it up, winking.</p><p>It was tempting, but Jeremiah shook his head. "I'll tie you up later," he said, seriously, then he lunged for her throat, sucking her skin into his mouth and, without warning, biting down. Sybil squealed, dragging her nails down the back of his neck and arching against him, letting out a low moan. Jeremiah, ignoring the difference in weight, straightened his legs, long enough to wrap them around Sybil and pull her closer to him. He had one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her shoulder, holding her within his reach as he continued to chew on her. After several minutes of that and Sybil moaning quietly in the darkness, he stopped, and looked into her eyes. Her face seemed almost vacant, as if she were simply waiting for him to decide what to do. And that made up his mind.</p><p>In one swift move he grabbed the blade which still lay on the bed, watched as it glinted in the faint light. With one finger he brushed one side of Sybil's hair off her shoulder, completely exposing her skin. She watched him wipe the flat end of the blade against his molted arm, look at it, then lick his arm where the stain dirtied him, silently, and he stared at her for a moment, awaiting protest. She didn't say a word. Slightly relieved, Jeremiah tightened his legs around her and gently drug the small blade across her chest, just above her breasts, which in turn formed a nice clean T shape with the cut he had made down between the valley of her breasts. She hissed through her teeth and he saw her close her eyes, but he was beyond feeling bad.</p><p>He knew if she hadn't wanted him to, she wouldn't have let him. Besides, the damage was done, he might as well get something out of it. So he lay the blade on the bed next to them, then wrapped his arms around her, lowering his head and lapping up the blood which had begun to drip slowly from the cut. That was when he felt slightly dirty. It was that and the way Sybil was moaning quietly, and he knew it was partly from pain. But what made him feel the dirtiest was the desire that he had to go on. Closing his own eyes, he closed his mouth over the cut and gently began to suck.</p><p>Sybil's body jerked and she moaned louder,  tangling her fingers in the back of his neck and holding his head in place. She could feel his teeth pressing into her flesh and she shivered. Several minutes later Jeremiah pulled away, a few droplets of blood glossing his lips. Sybil, feeling daring, leaned forward and licked the blood from his mouth. He stared at her, surprised, before he kissed her.  </p><p>The next few marks were quicker. The blood excited him and he grew eager to see the crimson drops and hear the soft winces that tumbled from Sybil's mouth. Without warning he gripped her cut ribcage digging a finger slightly into the mark he had made. Sybil hissed loudly, throwing her head back against the wall.</p><p>"Fuck! You! Asshole!"</p><p>He licked the blood from his blade and chuckled. "Watch that mouth, girl. Or I'll find a better use for it." He shoved his soaked fingers into her mouth letting her taste her own life essence. She sucked the coppery liquid eagerly, working her small tongue around each digit. He pressed his body to hers, the blood smearing against them and mixing with the sweat. "You did pretty well, though. I guess I can reward you..."</p><p>The reward came slow however, there was no point in making any rush of it. They had time, placing lazy, soft kisses, skin against skin, simply reveling in the feel of touching another person in this way, of making something else matter. However despite the slow introduction, it happened quickly. </p><p>Fast, furious, fevered. There was no other word for it than a hot and heavy fuck. </p><p>But it was good. Oh, so good. The feel of him slamming against her, his hand gripping harder and harder onto her ass, pulling her onto him. It was glorious. There was something about it that appealed to a part of her that lived firmly under her skin. Something that recognized the play of muscles under her fingers as he lifted her up and dropped her back down again. Taking as much as he was giving as he sucked a quiet bruise into the dip of her collarbone. Snarling with over-stimulation when she caught his tattered earlobe between her teeth and tugged.</p><p>She knew him.</p><p>Every part.</p><p>She knew the animal that lived underneath his skin.</p><p>She knew the man spread thin over top.</p><p>She knew what he smelled like when both parts were sated – malleable.</p><p>They were gifts he allowed her.</p><p>Only her.</p><p>And ones she used now, knowing what he needed even as he tried to make it unknown.</p><p>She reached down as he brought her slowly back up again. Hands clenched over-hard around her ass, making clear tracks in the pliable flesh as she arched back and tightened around him. His hips jerked, cussing out a blue streak as he slammed her back down again. Fucking her. Losing that careful rhythm as something quiet, dark and extremely self-satisfied uncurled itself in the center of her chest. Watching as his eyes fluttered closed, the pale of his neck bared for the taking as she scraped the sharp of her teeth down the side of it.</p><p>"Sybil, fuck-"</p><p>She soared, delighted, when he let go of agonizing groan and came. Hands pressing, pleasure-hard like new bruises she'd only cherish afterwards as he seized her hips like a life line and buried himself deep. Emptying himself in her with a bitten off cry.</p><p>The whimper that came later as she clenched deliberately around him - all base syllables and breathy - was so close to her name that it didn't take much more than the blunt of his fingers against her center before she was flying with him. Over-sensitive and screaming as the flat of his free palm slapped down across her mouth the same moment he flicked her swollen clit.</p><p>She ended up biting down.</p><p>Hard.</p><p>Something warm flood her mouth, then was running down her chin. With a flick of her tongue, she tasted a burst of tainted copper. Blood. She saw the faint glow, as droplets dripped onto the sheets. She was watching him with wide, green eyes as he propped himself back up, fluorescent green drops dotting his chest as they dropped their way down from her chin. </p><p>With the image of her covered in his blood hanging above him, Jeremiah could feel his own body caving to his needs and was grateful to feel her muscles tense and knot beneath him, her mouth opening in another silent call of ecstasy. The almost painful tightening around his member was all he needed to reach his own desired end, his torso tightening in rippling waves of pleasure as his manhood spilled out all that it had been holding.</p><p>They came down stuck that way, him softening inside her in fractions and her soothing the half-moon gouges her nails had made across his back. Highlighting the groves of muscle and scar tissue as she painted whorls in the dips. Right then her eyes lowered, watching him and very slowly he watched her lick her lips, and smile. A genuine, sultry smile that answered everything.</p><p>Maybe he wasn't that fucked up after all.</p><p>Maybe they both were.</p><p>Maybe it didn't matter anymore. And as she mingled his blood with hers, and marked a little X in the middle of the chest, he was happy to know she felt the same way.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>